An Angel's Arrival
by sweetsilverdusk
Summary: A tribute to Alice "Susie" Angel.


A Tribute to Alice "Susie" Angel

I've been hitting some writing blocks as of late and, recently, found some inspiration for this little short. So, in BATIM Chapter 4, Henry was successful in "Ending the Angel." But, because Susie was the first Alice we encountered, I wanted to write a little something for her.  
The music that inspired this piece can be found on Youtube (Check out Instruments of Cyanide via DAGames because, damn, this song has been stuck in my head for 48 hours)

As Always, Comment, Kudo, and leave Suggestions!

 _I in the name in the violence,_

 _Sentence you down to hell_

 _Live or you will die_

 _Just for the sake, fetch me the tools_

 _So, I create this instrument of cyanide_

There was darkness that surrounded me, a cold and unforgiving darkness that threatened to consume and destroy me. I could hear something calling my name though, a faraway voice that sounded so strange, so familiar. I followed it blindly, the darkness continuing to pull me back from the voice's eager call.

My feet felt stuck as I continued my path through the inky blackness. I looked down and could barely see where my feet were or what I was walking in. It felt cold and wet through, and sticky like glue. I knelt down and touched it, letting my other senses aid in figuring out where I was. Whatever it was that I was in was all around me.

It covered the walls and flowed through the hallway. I pressed my hand to the wall, feeling my hand vanish through the ever-flowing liquid. I reached further, feeling the liquid cover my wrist, then my arm, my elbow. I pulled my arm out before it passed my shoulder. My other hand took the one that had disappeared through the waterfall of liquid blackness.

Even this liquid was thick and sticky.

I grimaced and stood. The voice began calling again and I trudged toward it. I placed my hands in front of me as I made my way forward. If I felt a wall, I didn't want to run into it.

However, there was no wall. I stopped and squinted at seeing a distant light. I couldn't shout for help, nor could I tell if the light was held by a being. I tread through the inky liquid, pressing forward toward the light. If there was light, there was at least someone who could help me.

As I continued, I noticed the liquid seemed to flow heavier and thicker here than where I had woken up. It was all strange, the voice, the thick liquid flowing down what should have been walls and through the long hallway, and the fact there were no others around.

I felt a chill crept through me and pressed onward, pulling my body through the inky darkness, the light creeping closer and closer as I drew near. I tried calling out, but no sound came from my throat.

The voice that was calling my name became stronger. Soon, I heard other voices as the light was now a large ball of blinding white. I stopped, suddenly fearful, as the other voices seemed to be crying out.

 _"_ _No! No! Please!"_

 _"_ _Stop! I beg of you!"_

 _"_ _Oh, hell no! I'm outta here!"_

 _"_ _Beware! Beware!"_

I shivered and looked toward the light again. The voice calling my name grew stronger, almost drowning out the other voices. I turned back toward the darkness, which seemed so lonely compared to what I was hearing, but the light seemed to cause these voices, these… _people_ , grief.

Should I turn back and stay away from this light that offered me freedom? Should I continue onward, hoping and praying this light was indeed good and not a trick of sorts?

My mind made, a went forward and could feel the liquid push against me, threatening to make me fall. With the light nearly in front of me, I could see at last what I was walking in.

It was ink. Drawing ink.

My mind flashed images. A man at a desk, sketching a little smiling demon. A musician, singing soft melodies. The sound of a projector turning on. An angel with a heavenly voice. And… a blonde woman smiling at me from a mirror, her voice matching the angel's perfectly.

Suddenly, the light engulfed me before darkness took over. A heinous laugh sounded all around me. The little demon from my flashback suddenly appeared, whispering, _"She ain't no flapper, she's a classy dish, and, boy, can this girl sing. This gal can grant your every wish… IT'S ALICE ANGEL!"_

I let out a scream of horror as the demon suddenly jumped toward me, growing in size and pie-cut eyes flashing red.

A puddle began to bubble violently. The searchers and the Butcher gang clones watched from the shadows as a tall figure rose from the inky blackness, dripping in the ink. The figure had a slim feminine build from what they could see, and, as the ink dripped away, more of her was revealed.

She had black hair with a broken halo trapped in her scalp as well as large horns growing on either side of her head. Most of her skin was white as paper, except for her arms, which were drenched in ink from her fingertips to above her elbows, almost touching her shoulders. She wore a black dress that fell to her knees with a white bow on the top. Her legs and feet were also dripping with ink.

She suddenly threw her head back in a high wild cackle that resounded through the chamber. Half of her face was complete, with a beautiful shaped eye with black liner and painted black lips. The other half, however, was grotesque and malformed with an empty eye socket, dripping with ink. Part of her skull was also jutting out from the malformed side of her face while parts of her jaw and teeth could be seen through her cheek, where the skin was melting in slivers.

They watched in fear as the character suddenly shouted out, "I'M ALICE ANGEL!"

 _I in the name in the violence,_

 _Sentence you down to hell_

 _Live or you will die_

 _Just for the sake, fetch me the tools_

 _So, I create this instrument of cyanide_


End file.
